Ruby Fridays

Chapter 65: Crypts of Bone

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N O W P L A Y I N G

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───── ❝ R U B Y F R I D A Y ' S P O V ❞ ────

║ Gregorian Calendar ║ 02 - 27 - 2027 ║

║ Saturday║ Second Day of Olympia's Cup║

The food packets lay open on the ground, the stale crackers and juice boxes was even a stark contrast to the lush jungle of crimson bushes surrounding us here in the Blood Meadow. The bushes stood tall and proud, their dark red leaves shimmering in the dim light that filtered through the thick canopy overhead. These bushes held secrets of past competitors, their blood soaking into the soil to nourish the crimson leaves.

We knew we were being watched from the shadows, unseen eyes monitoring our every move, waiting for a moment of weakness. The air felt heavy with the memories of past horrors, the echoes of screams and pleas for mercy still hanging in the muggy air. We huddled together, our eyes straining against the darkness for any sign of movement. 

We had made it this far, but we weren't foolish enough to believe we were safe. No, the real test was yet to come, the final challenge awaited us deep in the heart of another location, but for now, as hunger clouded my mind, for a moment I allowed myself to believer that this cursed place was now safe.

"Finally, food..." As the light was burning fast, the shadows lengthening around us as afternoon fell, my palms stung as I gripped the spoon for the porridge, fresh cuts oozing blood onto the ground that was damp and spongy underfoot, the soil saturated with blood both old and new. 

I tried to ignore the eerie feeling creeping up my spine, focusing on chewing each bland bite. The food tasted unappetizing, but none of us cared. We were too hungry and exhausted from the initiation of the day's challenges to complain. The food given was tasteless, yet it felt like a feast for our weary bodies. We ate quickly, trying not to make eye contact or glance around at the bloodstained ground and walls of the dark place we were trapped within.

The stench of sweat and blood hung heavy in the air, mixing with the odor of the lukewarm soup.

My palms were still stinging from the fresh cuts, but I tried not to focus on the pain. Instead, I picked up a piece of the soggy rice and dry chunks of meat as my other teammates chatted lightly as we ate, our voices hushed and subdued. 

Beatrice picks up a cracker, examining it with disdain. The thin wafer bends under its own weight, and the orange cheese spread smeared across its surface bubbles and oozes unnaturally, "This looks like cardboard with cheese flavoring," she mutters under her breath. She takes a reluctant bite and her face twists in disgust. "Yeah, tastes like it too. I'd seriously kill for some real food," she grumbles, but ironically not dropping the cracker back onto the plate.

Letting out a mirthless laugh, I realized she's right in a sense though. We could give anything we could possibly have just for for a real meal right now — A juicy steak. A baked potato smothered in butter. A slice of warm apple pie — We both know such things are nothing more than fantasies at this point.